


Maedhros has a what?

by LadyBrooke



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2013-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-10 12:36:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/786117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBrooke/pseuds/LadyBrooke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gil-galad knew that the House of Fëanor brought headaches, Celebrimbor was proof enough of that. He just hadn't thought that even when Maedhros and Maglor where elsewhere, they would still introduce chaos into his life. What's an elf to do?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maedhros has a what?

"My Lords," was accompanied with a respectful bow. "Three children were found in one of the guards' encampments early this month. Lord Celeborn has identified two of the elves as the sons of Eärendil, however the third refuses to give his parentage. Shall I have them escorted to you study, Sire?"

"Yes, that will be well, Athrad," after Athrad left the room, Gil-galad looked at Celebrimbor. "Do you have any idea who this mysterious third child could be, Telpe? The other two were raised by your Uncle."

"I wish I could tell you, however, no whispers have reached my ears of any other child either of my Uncles would have taken in, nor do I know any reason why they would," was the puzzled reply.

"Well, I suppose we will just have to wait. See if you can spy them out the window, cousin, and gather any clue. They should be coming this way shortly."

"Very well then, I see you still have not grown out of your mischievous stage," came the stinging reply, though lessened by the grin on Celebrimbor's face.

Gil-galad began talking of other matters important to governing the land, going on and on, however he gradually became distracted as he realized Celebrimbor had not replied in several minutes. He was about to take offense, when he looked at Celebrimbor's face, and realized his cousin had taken on a deathly white hue. "Cousin! Are you alright?" he queried, while rushing forward.

"Yes, yes," came the distracted reply. "It's just...he wouldn't have...he couldn't have...but he loved..."

"You are making no sense," Gil-galad was becoming more concerned by the minute that the famed insanity of Fëanor's line had finally overtaken Celebrimbor. He just hoped that this wasn't going to affect his kingdom much, his father (well, one of the men who could be his father. For some reason, nobody old enough to remember would tell him who really was his father. Whenever he would ask Celebrimbor, he would get this grin on his face and reply along the lines of, he would know when he was older. What this was supposed to mean, he had no idea.) Anyways, Orodreth had left several documents behind detailing exactly how much trouble Celebrimbor's father had caused.

"You'll see in a moment," was the reply, this time accompanied by the same sly look Celebrimbor always had when he thought he had information somebody else didn't.

Just as Gil-galad was becoming tempted to give into his urge to strangle his cousin of some odd degree, a knock came. "My lords?" it was Athrad. "I've brought the children, may we enter?"

"Yes," was swiftly said. Gil-galad hoped this would clear up the mystery of why his cousin was acting so oddly.

As the children entered, he could see the twin sons of Eärendil. Though, the clothes were definitely of Fëanorian origin, only they wore that star. He could tell it was going to be a task to get them to stop wearing it. While loyalty was to be admired, the children would be targeted for it.

The third child however was still wearing a hood. Judging by the size, he was clearly the oldest though. Gazing at the children, he decided to get some answers.

"Would one of you like to tell me your names?" he said it was was clearly intended to be a reassuring tone, though it made him sound somewhat stupid, judging by the cackling noises coming from behind him. In his mind, he made a mental note to begin looking for a region he could...gift...to his relative.

The three did some sort of communication, judging by the gestures and looks going back and forth, before one of the children stepped forward.

"My name is Elrond, my lord, and this is my twin Elros, and my cousin."

Clearly, getting information from them was going to be a task.

"Well child, would you like to give me your cousin's name? Or how he is related to you, for I don't recall any relations through your parents." Searching his mind, he tried to recall if Elwing or Eärendil had any relatives wandering around.

"Carnion. My cousin on my foster-father's side, my lord." While Gil-galad's mind tried to process this unexpected revelation, Carnion began removing his hood. At this, Celebrimbor sat up, clearly hoping to get a better look at his newly discovered cousin. "He's 10 years younger then I am, my lord. A result of an...indiscretion...between Uncle Maedhros and one of the serving ladies, while Uncle was in one of his drunken morose moods...Of course, the serving lady wasn't happy when she found out that Father said that she looked like one of their male cousins."

Gil-galad whirling mind drew to an overwhelmed stop at this point. Carnion's hair was of the same shocking red that graced Maedhros's head. "Celebrimbor...would you mind?"

Apparently gathering from that brief sentence that Gil-galad was about to go seek out a bottle of wine, and consume the whole thing in a brief attempt to forget the events of the day, Celebrimbor turned to the children. "Why don't we go find you some rooms, and you can tell me more of my Uncles."

As the four left the room, Gil-galad sank into his chair, and banged his head into his desk. It had been bad enough with one grandchild of Fëanor in his realm, now he had four.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know that Maedhros couldn't really have a bastard child. However, if you look closely in TTT movie, there's a red-headed elf dead in the marshes...what better excuse could I need to write this?


End file.
